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ISBN 978-92-64-09149-8
98 201011 1 P -:HSTCQE=U^VY^]:
PISA
2009
Results:
Learning
Trends
CHANGES
IN
STUDENT
PERFORMANCE
SINCE
2000
–
VOLUME
V
Please cite this publication as:
OECD (2010), PISA 2009 Results: Learning Trends: Changes in Student Performance Since 2000
(Volume V), PISA, OECD Publishing.
http://dx.doi.org/10.1787/9789264091580-en
This work is published on the OECD iLibrary, which gathers all OECD books, periodicals and statistical
databases. Visit www.oecd-ilibrary.org, and do not hesitate to contact us for more information.
PISA 2009 Results:
Learning Trends
CHANGES IN STUDENT PERFORMANCE SINCE 2000
VOLUME V
Are students well prepared to meet the challenges of the future? Can they analyse, reason and communicate
their ideas effectively? Have they found the kinds of interests they can pursue throughout their lives as productive
members of the economy and society? The OECD Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA) seeks
to answer these questions through the most comprehensive and rigorous international assessment of student
knowledge and skills. Together, the group of countries and economies participating in PISA represents nearly 90%
of the world economy.
PISA 2009 Results presents the findings from the most recent PISA survey, which focused on reading and also
assessed mathematics and science performance. The report comprises six volumes:
• Volume I, What Students Know and Can Do: Student Performance in Reading, Mathematics and Science,
compares the knowledge and skills of students across countries.
• Volume II, Overcoming Social Background: Equity in Learning Opportunities and Outcomes, looks at how
successful education systems moderate the impact of social background and immigrant status on student and
school performance.
• Volume III, Learning to Learn: Student Engagement, Strategies and Practices, examines 15-year-olds’ motivation,
their engagement with reading and their use of effective learning strategies.
• Volume IV, What Makes a School Successful? Resources, Policies and Practices, examines how human,
financial and material resources, and education policies and practices shape learning outcomes.
• Volume V, Learning Trends: Changes in Student Performance Since 2000, looks at the progress countries have
made in raising student performance and improving equity in the distribution of learning opportunities.
• Volume VI, Students on Line: Reading and Using Digital Information, explores students’ use of information
technologies to learn.
PISA 2009 marks the beginning of the second cycle of surveys, with an assessment in mathematics scheduled
for 2012 and one in science for 2015.
THE OECD PROGRAMME FOR INTERNATIONAL STUDENT ASSESSMENT (PISA)
PISA focuses on young people’s ability to use their knowledge and skills to meet real-life challenges. This orientation reflects a change
in the goals and objectives of curricula themselves, which are increasingly concerned with what students can do with what they learn
at school and not merely with whether they have mastered specific curricular content. PISA’s unique features include its:
– Policy orientation, which highlights differences in performance patterns and identifies features common to high-performing students,
schools and education systems by linking data on learning outcomes with data on student characteristics and other key factors that
shape learning in and outside of school.
– Innovative concept of “literacy”, which refers both to students’ capacity to apply knowledge and skills in key subject areas and to their
ability to analyse, reason and communicate effectively as they pose, interpret and solve problems in a variety of situations.
– Relevance to lifelong learning, which goes beyond assessing students’ competencies in school subjects by asking them to report on
their motivation to learn, their beliefs about themselves and their learning strategies.
– Regularity, which enables countries to monitor their progress in meeting key learning objectives.
– Breadth of geographical coverage and collaborative nature, which, in PISA 2009, encompasses the 34 OECD member countries and
41 partner countries and economies.
P r o g r a m m e f o r I n t e r n a t i o n a l S t u d e n t A s s e s s m e n t
PISA 2009 Results:
Learning Trends
CHANGES IN STUDENT PERFORMANCE
SINCE 2000
VOLUME V
982010111cov.indd 1 29-Nov-2010 2:31:06 PM
A painted whoreat half a crown.
The bright mind fouled, the beauty gay
All eaten out and fallen away,
By drunken days and weary tramps
From pub to pub by city lamps,
Till men despise the game they started
Till health and beauty are departed,
And in a slum the reeking hag
Mumbles a crust with toothy jag,
Or gets the river's help to end
The life too wrecked for man to mend.
We spat and smoked and took our swipe
Till Silas up and tap his pipe,
And begged us all to pay attention
Because he'd several things to mention.
We'd seen the fight (Hear, hear. That's you);
But still one task remained to do;
That task was his, he didn't shun it,
To give the purse to him as won it;
With this remark, from start to out
He'd never seen a brisker bout.
There was the purse. At that he'd leave it.
Let Kane come forward to receive it.
I took the purse and hemmed and bowed,
And called for gin punch for the crowd;
And when the second bowl was done,
57.
I called, 'Let'shave another one.'
Si's wife come in and sipped and sipped
(As women will) till she was pipped.
And Si hit Dicky Twot a clouter
Because he put his arm about her;
But after Si got overtasked
She sat and kissed whoever asked.
My Doxy Jane was splashed by this,
I took her on my knee to kiss.
And Tom cried out, 'O damn the gin;
Why can't we all have women in?
Bess Evans, now, or Sister Polly,
Or those two housemaids at the Folly?
Let someone nip to Biddy Price's,
They'd all come in a brace of trices.
Rose Davies, Sue, and Betsy Perks;
One man, one girl, and damn all Turks.'
But, no. 'More gin,' they cried; 'Come on.
We'll have the girls in when it's gone.'
So round the gin went, hot and heady,
Hot Hollands punch on top of deady.
Hot Hollands punch on top of stout
Puts madness in and wisdom out.
From drunken man to drunken man
The drunken madness raged and ran.
'I'm climber Joe who climbed the spire.'
'You're climber Joe the bloody liar.'
58.
'Who says Ilie?'
'I do.'
'You lie,
I climbed the spire and had a fly.'
'I'm French Suzanne, the Circus Dancer,
I'm going to dance a bloody Lancer.'
'If I'd my rights I'm Squire's heir.'
'By rights I'd be a millionaire.'
'By rights I'd be the lord of you,
But Farmer Scriggins had his do,
He done me, so I've had to hoove it,
I've got it all wrote down to prove it.
And one of these dark winter nights
He'll learn I mean to have my rights;
I'll bloody him a bloody fix,
I'll bloody burn his bloody ricks.'
From three long hours of gin and smokes,
And two girls' breath and fifteen blokes',
A warmish night, and windows shut,
The room stank like a fox's gut.
The heat and smell and drinking deep
Began to stun the gang to sleep.
Some fell downstairs to sleep on the mat,
Some snored it sodden where they sat.
Dick Twot had lost a tooth and wept,
But all the drunken others slept.
Jane slept beside me in the chair,
59.
And I gotup; I wanted air.
I opened window wide and leaned
Out of that pigstye of the fiend
And felt a cool wind go like grace
About the sleeping market-place.
The clock struck three, and sweetly, slowly,
The bells chimed Holy, Holy, Holy;
And in a second's pause there fell
The cold note of the chapel bell,
And then a cock crew, flapping wings,
And summat made me think of things
How long those ticking clocks had gone
From church and chapel, on and on,
Ticking the time out, ticking slow
To men and girls who'd come and go,
And how they ticked in belfry dark
When half the town was bishop's park,
And how they'd rung a chime full tilt
The night after the church was built,
And how that night was Lambert's Feast,
The night I'd fought and been a beast.
And how a change had come. And then
I thought, 'You tick to different men.'
What with the fight and what with drinking
And being awake alone there thinking,
My mind began to carp and tetter,
'If this life's all, the beasts are better.'
60.
And then Ithought, 'I wish I'd seen
The many towns this town has been;
I wish I knew if they'd a-got
A kind of summat we've a-not,
If them as built the church so fair
Were half the chaps folk say they were;
For they'd the skill to draw their plan,
And skill's a joy to any man;
And they'd the strength, not skill alone,
To build it beautiful in stone;
And strength and skill together thus...
O, they were happier men than us.
'But if they were, they had to die
The same as every one and I.
And no one lives again, but dies,
And all the bright goes out of eyes,
And all the skill goes out of hands,
And all the wise brain understands,
And all the beauty, all the power
Is cut down like a withered flower.
In all the show from birth to rest
I give the poor dumb cattle best.'
I wondered, then, why life should be,
And what would be the end of me
When youth and health and strength were gone
And cold old age came creeping on?
61.
A keeper's gun?The Union ward?
Or that new quod at Hereford?
And looking round I felt disgust
At all the nights of drink and lust,
And all the looks of all the swine
Who'd said that they were friends of mine;
And yet I knew, when morning came,
The morning would be just the same,
For I'd have drinks and Jane would meet me
And drunken Silas Jones would greet me,
And I'd risk quod and keeper's gun
Till all the silly game was done.
'For parson chaps are mad supposin'
A chap can change the road he's chosen.'
And then the Devil whispered 'Saul,
Why should you want to live at all?
Why fret and sweat and try to mend?
It's all the same thing in the end.
But when it's done,' he said, 'it's ended.
Why stand it, since it can't be mended?'
And in my heart I heard him plain,
'Throw yourself down and end it, Kane.'
'Why not?' said I. 'Why not? But no.
I won't. I've never had my go.
I've not had all the world can give.
Death by and by, but first I'll live.
The world owes me my time of times,
62.
And that time'scoming now, by crimes.'
A madness took me then. I felt
I'd like to hit the world a belt.
I felt that I could fly through air,
A screaming star with blazing hair,
A rushing comet, crackling, numbing
The folk with fear of judgment coming,
A 'Lijah in a fiery car
Coming to tell folk what they are.
'That's what I'll do,' I shouted loud,
'I'll tell this sanctimonious crowd,
This town of window-peeping, prying,
Maligning, peering, hinting, lying,
Male and female human blots
Who would, but daren't be, whores and sots,
That they're so steeped in petty vice
That they're less excellent than lice,
That they're so soaked in petty virtue
That touching one of them will dirt you,
Dirt you with the stain of mean
Cheating trade and going between,
Pinching, starving, scraping, hoarding
Spying through the chinks of boarding
To see if Sue the prentice lean
Dares to touch the margarine.
Fawning, cringing, oiling boots,
63.
Raging in thecrowd's pursuits,
Flinging stones at all the Stephens,
Standing firm with all the evens,
Making hell for all the odd,
All the lonely ones of God,
Those poor lonely ones who find
Dogs more mild than human kind.
For dogs,' I said, 'are nobles born
To most of you, you cockled corn.
I've known dogs to leave their dinner,
Nosing a kind heart in a sinner.
Poor old Crafty wagged his tail
The day I first came home from jail,
When all my folk, so primly clad,
Glowered black and thought me mad,
And muttered how they'd been respected,
While I was what they'd all expected.
(I've thought of that old dog for years,
And of how near I come to tears.)
'But you, you minds of bread and cheese,
Are less divine than that dog's fleas.
You suck blood from kindly friends,
And kill them when it serves your ends.
Double traitors, double black,
Stabbing only in the back,
Stabbing with the knives you borrow
From the friends you bring to sorrow.
64.
You stab allthat's true and strong;
Truth and strength you say are wrong;
Meek and mild, and sweet and creeping,
Repeating, canting, cadging, peeping,
That's the art and that's the life
To win a man his neighbour's wife.
All that's good and all that's true,
You kill that, so I'll kill you.'
At that I tore my clothes in shreds
And hurled them on the window leads;
I flung my boots through both the winders
And knocked the glass to little flinders;
The punch bowl and the tumblers followed,
And then I seized the lamps and holloed.
And down the stairs, and tore back bolts,
As mad as twenty blooded colts;
And out into the street I pass,
As mad as two-year-olds at grass,
A naked madman waving grand
A blazing lamp in either hand.
I yelled like twenty drunken sailors,
'The devil's come among the tailors.'
A blaze of flame behind me streamed,
And then I clashed the lamps and screamed
'I'm Satan, newly come from hell.'
And then I spied the fire-bell.
65.
I've been aringer, so I know
How best to make a big bell go.
So on to bell-rope swift I swoop,
And stick my one foot in the loop
And heave a down-swig till I groan,
'Awake, you swine, you devil's own.'
I made the fire-bell awake,
I felt the bell-rope throb and shake;
I felt the air mingle and clang
And beat the walls a muffled bang,
And stifle back and boom and bay
Like muffled peals on Boxing Day,
And then surge up and gather shape,
And spread great pinions and escape;
And each great bird of clanging shrieks
O Fire, Fire! from iron beaks.
My shoulders cracked to send around
Those shrieking birds made out of sound
With news of fire in their bills.
(They heard 'em plain beyond Wall Hills.)
Up go the winders, out come heads,
I heard the springs go creak in beds;
But still I heave and sweat and tire,
And still the clang goes 'Fire, Fire!'
'Where is it, then? Who is it, there?
You ringer, stop, and tell us where.'
66.
'Run round andlet the Captain know.'
'It must be bad, he's ringing so.'
'It's in the town, I see the flame;
Look there! Look there, how red it came.'
'Where is it, then 'O stop the bell.'
I stopped and called: 'It's fire of hell;
And this is Sodom and Gomorrah,
And now I'll burn you up, begorra.'
By this the firemen were mustering,
The half-dressed stable men were flustering,
Backing the horses out of stalls
While this man swears and that man bawls,
'Don't take th'old mare. Back, Toby, back.
Back, Lincoln. Where's the fire, Jack?'
'Damned if I know. Out Preston way.'
'No. It's at Chancey's Pitch, they say.'
'It's sixteen ricks at Pauntley burnt.'
'You back old Darby out, I durn't.'
They ran the big red engine out,
And put 'em to with damn and shout.
And then they start to raise the shire,
'Who brought the news, and where's the fire?'
They'd moonlight, lamps, and gas to light 'em.
I give a screech-owl's screech to fright 'em,
And snatch from underneath their noses
The nozzles of the fire hoses.
67.
'I am thefire. Back, stand back,
Or else I'll fetch your skulls a crack;
D'you see these copper nozzles here?
They weigh ten pounds apiece, my dear;
I'm fire of hell come up this minute
To burn this town, and all that's in it.
To burn you dead and burn you clean,
You cogwheels in a stopped machine,
You hearts of snakes, and brains of pigeons,
You dead devout of dead religions,
You offspring of the hen and ass,
By Pilate ruled, and Caiaphas.
Now your account is totted. Learn
Hell's flames are loose and you shall burn.'
At that I leaped and screamed and ran,
I heard their cries go 'Catch him, man.'
'Who was it?' 'Down him.' 'Out him, Ern.
'Duck him at pump, we'll see who'll burn.'
A policeman clutched, a fireman clutched,
A dozen others snatched and touched.
'By God, he's stripped down to his buff.'
'By God, we'll make him warm enough.'
'After him.' 'Catch him,' 'Out him,' 'Scrob him.
'We'll give him hell.' 'By God, we'll mob him.'
'We'll duck him, scrout him, flog him, fratch him.
'All right,' I said. 'But first you'll catch him.'
68.
The men whodon't know to the root
The joy of being swift of foot,
Have never known divine and fresh
The glory of the gift of flesh,
Nor felt the feet exult, nor gone
Along a dim road, on and on,
Knowing again the bursting glows,
The mating hare in April knows,
Who tingles to the pads with mirth
At being the swiftest thing on earth.
O, if you want to know delight,
Run naked in an autumn night,
And laugh, as I laughed then, to find
A running rabble drop behind,
And whang, on every door you pass,
Two copper nozzles, tipped with brass,
And doubly whang at every turning,
And yell, 'All hell's let loose, and burning.'
I beat my brass and shouted fire
At doors of parson, lawyer, squire,
At all three doors I threshed and slammed
And yelled aloud that they were damned.
I clodded squire's glass with turves
Because he spring-gunned his preserves.
Through parson's glass my nozzle swishes
Because he stood for loaves and fishes,
But parson's glass I spared a tittle.
69.
He give mean orange once when little,
And he who gives a child a treat
Makes joy-bells ring in Heaven's street,
And he who gives a child a home
Builds palaces in Kingdom come,
And she who gives a baby birth
Brings Saviour Christ again to Earth,
For life is joy, and mind is fruit,
And body's precious earth and root.
But lawyer's glass--well, never mind,
Th'old Adam's strong in me, I find.
God pardon man, and may God's son
Forgive the evil things I've done.
What more? By Dirty Lane I crept
Back to the Lion, where I slept.
The raging madness hot and floodin'
Boiled itself out and left me sudden,
Left me worn out and sick and cold,
Aching as though I'd all grown old;
So there I lay, and there they found me
On door-mat, with a curtain round me.
Si took my heels and Jane my head
And laughed, and carried me to bed.
And from the neighbouring street they reskied
My boots and trousers, coat and weskit;
They bath-bricked both the nozzles bright
To be mementoes of the night,
70.
And knowing whatI should awake with
They flannelled me a quart to slake with,
And sat and shook till half-past two
Expecting Police Inspector Drew.
I woke and drank, and went to meat
In clothes still dirty from the street.
Down in the bar I heard 'em tell
How someone rang the fire-bell,
And how th'inspector's search had thriven,
And how five pounds reward was given.
And Shepherd Boyce, of Marley, glad us
By saying it was blokes from mad'us,
Or two young rips lodged at the Prince
Whom none had seen nor heard of since,
Or that young blade from Worcester Walk
(You know how country people talk).
Young Joe the ostler come in sad,
He said th'old mare had bit his dad.
He said there'd come a blazing screeching
Daft Bible-prophet chap a-preaching,
Had put th'old mare in such a taking
She'd thought the bloody earth was quaking.
And others come and spread a tale
Of cut-throats out of Gloucester jail,
And how we needed extra cops
With all them Welsh come picking hops;
71.
With drunken Welshin all our sheds
We might be murdered in our beds.
By all accounts, both men and wives
Had had the scare up of their lives.
I ate and drank and gathered strength,
And stretched along the bench full length,
Or crossed to window seat to pat
Black Silas Jones's little cat.
At four I called, 'You devil's own,
The second trumpet shall be blown.
The second trump, the second blast;
Hell's flames are loosed, and judgment's passed.
Too late for mercy now. Take warning
I'm death and hell and Judgment morning.'
I hurled the bench into the settle,
I banged the table on the kettle,
I sent Joe's quart of cider spinning.
'Lo, here begins my second inning.'
Each bottle, mug, and jug and pot
I smashed to crocks in half a tot;
And Joe, and Si, and Nick, and Percy
I rolled together topsy versy.
And as I ran I heard 'em call,
'Now damn to hell, what's gone with Saul?'
Out into street I ran uproarious
The devil dancing in me glorious.
72.
And as Iran I yell and shriek
'Come on, now, turn the other cheek.'
Across the way by almshouse pump
I see old puffing parson stump.
Old parson, red-eyed as a ferret
From nightly wrestlings with the spirit;
I ran across, and barred his path.
His turkey gills went red as wrath
And then he froze, as parsons can.
'The police will deal with you, my man.'
'Not yet,' said I, 'not yet they won't;
And now you'll hear me, like or don't.
The English Church both is and was
A subsidy of Caiaphas.
I don't believe in Prayer nor Bible,
They're lies all through, and you're a libel,
A libel on the Devil's plan
When first he miscreated man.
You mumble through a formal code
To get which martyrs burned and glowed.
I look on martyrs as mistakes,
But still they burned for it at stakes;
Your only fire's the jolly fire
Where you can guzzle port with Squire,
And back and praise his damned opinions
About his temporal dominions.
You let him give the man who digs,
A filthy hut unfit for pigs,
73.
Without a well,without a drain,
With mossy thatch that lets in rain,
Without a 'lotment, 'less he rent it,
And never meat, unless he scent it,
But weekly doles of 'leven shilling
To make a grown man strong and willing,
To do the hardest work on earth
And feed his wife when she gives birth,
And feed his little children's bones.
I tell you, man, the Devil groans.
With all your main and all your might
You back what is against what's right;
You let the Squire do things like these,
You back him in't and give him ease,
You take his hand, and drink his wine,
And he's a hog, but you're a swine.
For you take gold to teach God's ways
And teach man how to sing God's praise.
And now I'll tell you what you teach
In downright honest English speech.
'You teach the ground-down starving man
That Squire's greed's Jehovah's plan.
You get his learning circumvented
Lest it should make him discontented
(Better a brutal, starving nation
Than men with thoughts above their station),
You let him neither read nor think,
74.
You goad hiswretched soul to drink
And then to jail, the drunken boor;
O sad intemperance of the poor.
You starve his soul till it's rapscallion,
Then blame his flesh for being stallion.
You send your wife around to paint
The golden glories of "restraint."
How moral exercise bewild'rin'
Would soon result in fewer children.
You work a day in Squire's fields
And see what sweet restraint it yields;
A woman's day at turnip picking,
Your heart's too fat for plough or ricking.
'And you whom luck taught French and Greek
Have purple flaps on either cheek,
A stately house, and time for knowledge,
And gold to send your sons to college,
That pleasant place, where getting learning
Is also key to money earning.
But quite your damn'dest want of grace
Is what you do to save your face;
The way you sit astride the gates
By padding wages out of rates;
Your Christmas gifts of shoddy blankets
That every working soul may thank its
Loving parson, loving squire
Through whom he can't afford a fire.
75.
Your well-packed bench,your prison pen,
To keep them something less than men;
Your friendly clubs to help 'em bury,
Your charities of midwifery.
Your bidding children duck and cap
To them who give them workhouse pap.
O, what you are, and what you preach,
And what you do, and what you teach
Is not God's Word, nor honest schism,
But Devil's cant and pauperism.'
By this time many folk had gathered
To listen to me while I blathered;
I said my piece, and when I'd said it,
I'll do old purple parson credit,
He sunk (as sometimes parsons can)
His coat's excuses in the man.
'You think that Squire and I are kings
Who made the existing state of things,
And made it ill. I answer, No,
States are not made, nor patched; they grow,
Grow slow through centuries of pain
And grow correctly in the main,
But only grow by certain laws
Of certain bits in certain jaws.
You want to doctor that. Let be.
You cannot patch a growing tree.
Put these two words beneath your hat,
76.
These two: securusjudicat.
The social states of human kinds
Are made by multitudes of minds.
And after multitudes of years
A little human growth appears
Worth having, even to the soul
Who sees most plain it's not the whole.
This state is dull and evil, both,
I keep it in the path of growth;
You think the Church an outworn fetter;
Kane, keep it, till you've built a better.
And keep the existing social state;
I quite agree it's out of date,
One does too much, another shirks,
Unjust, I grant; but still ... it works.
To get the whole world out of bed
And washed, and dressed, and warmed, and fed,
To work, and back to bed again,
Believe me, Saul, costs worlds of pain.
Then, as to whether true or sham
That book of Christ, Whose priest I am;
The Bible is a lie, say you,
Where do you stand, suppose it true?
Good-bye. But if you've more to say,
My doors are open night and day.
Meanwhile, my friend, 'twould be no sin
77.
To mix morewater in your gin.
We're neither saints nor Philip Sidneys,
But mortal men with mortal kidneys.'
He took his snuff, and wheezed a greeting,
And waddled off to mothers' meeting;
I hung my head upon my chest,
I give old purple parson best.
For while the Plough tips round the Pole
The trained mind outs the upright soul,
As Jesus said the trained mind might,
Being wiser than the sons of light,
But trained men's minds are spread so thin
They let all sorts of darkness in;
Whatever light man finds they doubt it,
They love not light, but talk about it.
But parson'd proved to people's eyes
That I was drunk, and he was wise;
And people grinned and women tittered,
And little children mocked and twittered
So blazing mad, I stalked to bar
To show how noble drunkards are,
And guzzled spirits like a beast,
To show contempt for Church and priest,
Until, by six, my wits went round
Like hungry pigs in parish pound.
At half-past six, rememb'ring Jane,
I staggered into street again
78.
With mind madeup (or primed with gin)
To bash the cop who'd run me in;
For well I knew I'd have to cock up
My legs that night inside the lock-up,
And it was my most fixed intent
To have a fight before I went.
Our Fates are strange, and no one knows his;
Our lovely Saviour Christ disposes.
Jane wasn't where we'd planned, the jade.
She'd thought me drunk and hadn't stayed.
So I went up the Walk to look for her
And lingered by the little brook for her,
And dowsed my face, and drank at spring,
And watched two wild duck on the wing.
The moon come pale, the wind come cool,
A big pike leapt in Lower Pool,
The peacock screamed, the clouds were straking,
My cut cheek felt the weather breaking;
An orange sunset waned and thinned
Foretelling rain and western wind,
And while I watched I heard distinct
The metals on the railway clinked.
The blood-edged clouds were all in tatters,
The sky and earth seemed mad as hatters;
They had a death look, wild and odd,
Of something dark foretold by God.
79.
And seeing itso, I felt so shaken
I wouldn't keep the road I'd taken,
But wandered back towards the inn
Resolved to brace myself with gin.
And as I walked, I said, 'It's strange,
There's Death let loose to-night, and Change.'
In Cabbage Walk I made a haul
Of two big pears from lawyer's wall,
And, munching one, I took the lane
Back into Market-place again.
Lamp-lighter Dick had passed the turning
And all the Homend lamps were burning,
The windows shone, the shops were busy,
But that strange Heaven made me dizzy.
The sky had all God's warning writ
In bloody marks all over it,
And over all I thought there was
A ghastly light beside the gas.
The Devil's tasks and Devil's rages
Were giving me the Devil's wages.
In Market-place it's always light,
The big shop windows make it bright;
And in the press of people buying
I spied a little fellow crying
Because his mother'd gone inside
80.
And left himthere, and so he cried.
And mother'd beat him when she found him,
And mother's whip would curl right round him,
And mother'd say he'd done't to crost her,
Though there being crowds about he'd lost her.
Lord, give to men who are old and rougher
The things that little children suffer,
And let keep bright and undefiled
The young years of the little child.
I pat his head at edge of street
And gi'm my second pear to eat.
Right under lamp, I pat his head,
'I'll stay till mother come,' I said,
And stay I did, and joked and talked,
And shoppers wondered as they walked.
'There's that Saul Kane, the drunken blaggard,
Talking to little Jimmy Jaggard.
The drunken blaggard reeks of drink.'
'Whatever will his mother think?'
'Wherever has his mother gone?
Nip round to Mrs Jaggard's, John,
And say her Jimmy's out again,
In Market-place, with boozer Kane.'
'When he come out to-day he staggered.
O, Jimmy Jaggard, Jimmy Jaggard.'
'His mother's gone inside to bargain,
Run in and tell her, Polly Margin,
81.
And tell herpoacher Kane is tipsy
And selling Jimmy to a gipsy.'
'Run in to Mrs Jaggard, Ellen,
Or else, dear knows, there'll be no tellin',
And don't dare leave yer till you've fount her,
You'll find her at the linen counter.'
I told a tale, to Jim's delight,
Of where the tom-cats go by night,
And how when moonlight come they went
Among the chimneys black and bent,
From roof to roof, from house to house,
With little baskets full of mouse
All red and white, both joint and chop
Like meat out of a butcher's shop;
Then all along the wall they creep
And everyone is fast asleep,
And honey-hunting moths go by,
And by the bread-batch crickets cry;
Then on they hurry, never waiting
To lawyer's backyard cellar grating
Where Jaggard's cat, with clever paw,
Unhooks a broke-brick's secret door;
Then down into the cellar black,
Across the wood slug's slimy track,
Into an old cask's quiet hollow,
Where they've got seats for what's to follow;
82.
Then each tom-catlights little candles,
And O, the stories and the scandals,
And O, the songs and Christmas carols,
And O, the milk from little barrels.
They light a fire fit for roasting
(And how good mouse-meat smells when toasting),
Then down they sit to merry feast
While moon goes west and sun comes east.
Sometimes they make so merry there
Old lawyer come to head of stair
To 'fend with fist and poker took firm
His parchments channelled by the bookworm,
And all his deeds, and all his packs
Of withered ink and sealing wax;
And there he stands, with candle raised,
And listens like a man amazed,
Or like a ghost a man stands dumb at,
He says, 'Hush! Hush! I'm sure there's summat!'
He hears outside the brown owl call,
He hears the death-tick tap the wall,
The gnawing of the wainscot mouse,
The creaking up and down the house,
The unhooked window's hinges ranging,
The sounds that say the wind is changing.
At last he turns, and shakes his head,
'It's nothing, I'll go back to bed.'
83.
And just thenMrs Jaggard came
To view and end her Jimmy's shame.
She made one rush and gi'm a bat
And shook him like a dog a rat.
'I can't turn round but what you're straying.
I'll give you tales and gipsy playing.
I'll give you wand'ring off like this
And listening to whatever 't is,
You'll laugh the little side of the can,
You'll have the whip for this, my man;
And not a bite of meat nor bread
You'll touch before you go to bed.
Some day you'll break your mother's heart,
After God knows she's done her part,
Working her arms off day and night
Trying to keep your collars white.
Look at your face, too, in the street.
What dirty filth 've you found to eat?
Now don't you blubber here, boy, or
I'll give you sum't to blubber for.'
She snatched him off from where we stand
And knocked the pear-core from his hand,
And looked at me, 'You Devil's limb,
How dare you talk to Jaggard's Jim;
You drunken, poaching, boozing brute, you.
If Jaggard was a man he'd shoot you.'
She glared all this, but didn't speak,
84.
She gasped, whitehollows in her cheek;
Jimmy was writhing, screaming wild,
The shoppers thought I'd killed the child.
I had to speak, so I begun.
'You'd oughtn't beat your little son;
He did no harm, but seeing him there
I talked to him and gi'm a pear;
I'm sure the poor child meant no wrong,
It's all my fault he stayed so long,
He'd not have stayed, mum, I'll be bound
If I'd not chanced to come around.
It's all my fault he stayed, not his.
I kept him here, that's how it is.'
'Oh! And how dare you, then?' says she,
'How dare you tempt my boy from me?
How dare you do't, you drunken swine,
Is he your child or is he mine?
A drunken sot they've had the beak to,
Has got his dirty whores to speak to,
His dirty mates with whom he drink,
Not little children, one would think.
Look on him, there,' she says, 'look on him
And smell the stinking gin upon him,
The lowest sot, the drunk'nest liar,
The dirtiest dog in all the shire:
Nice friends for any woman's son
After ten years, and all she's done.
85.
'For I've hadeight, and buried five,
And only three are left alive.
I've given them all we could afford,
I've taught them all to fear the Lord.
They've had the best we had to give,
The only three the Lord let live.
'For Minnie whom I loved the worst
Died mad in childbed with her first.
And John and Mary died of measles,
And Rob was drownded at the Teasels.
And little Nan, dear little sweet,
A cart run over in the street;
Her little shift was all one stain,
I prayed God put her out of pain.
And all the rest are gone or going
The road to hell, and there's no knowing
For all I've done and all I've made them
I'd better not have overlaid them.
For Susan went the ways of shame
The time the 'till'ry regiment came,
And t'have her child without a father
I think I'd have her buried rather.
And Dicky boozes, God forgimme,
And now't's to be the same with Jimmy.
And all I've done and all I've bore
Has made a drunkard and a whore,
A bastard boy who wasn't meant,
86.
And Jimmy gwinewhere Dicky went;
For Dick began the self-same way
And my old hairs are going gray,
And my poor man's a withered knee,
And all the burden falls on me.
'I've washed eight little children's limbs,
I've taught eight little souls their hymns,
I've risen sick and lain down pinched
And borne it all and never flinched;
But to see him, the town's disgrace,
With God's commandments broke in's face,
Who never worked, not he, nor earned,
Nor will do till the seas are burned,
Who never did since he was whole
A hand's turn for a human soul,
But poached and stole and gone with women,
And swilled down gin enough to swim in;
To see him only lift one finger
To make my little Jimmy linger.
In spite of all his mother's prayers,
And all her ten long years of cares,
And all her broken spirit's cry
That drunkard's finger puts them by,
And Jimmy turns. And now I see
That just as Dick was, Jim will be,
And all my life will have been vain.
87.
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